


Cherry

by angstytimelord



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: First Time, Light Bondage, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Virginity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-02
Updated: 2015-04-06
Packaged: 2018-02-07 04:42:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 14,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1885527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angstytimelord/pseuds/angstytimelord
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To Hannibal, Will is like an untasted, ripe cherry. Sweet, tart, and until this night, pristine. But he intends for that to change.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tart on the Tongue

The room felt smaller than usual. Close. Close and .... _intimate_.

"I want to try something different tonight, Will," Hannibal said, his voice very soft.

Will's pulse jumped at those words; he hadn't expected them. He didn't know what Hannibal might want to do, and that thought made him more than a little nervous.

But he had to put his trust in Hannibal, didn't he? He'd promised this man that he would do just that, even if he was at times afraid to do so. Hannibal inspired confidence and trust sometimes -- and at others, he inspired nothing more than nerves and fear.

Will took a deep breath, nodding and forcing a smile. He was going to push those nerves away, and not let himself be frightened to try something new.

Hannibal wouldn't hurt him. He trusted Hannibal. He had to.

Hannibal pulled a silk scarf from the pocket of his jacket, raising one eyebrow. Will swallowed hard; he had an idea of what Hannibal planned to do.

The other man moved behind him, pulling the soft silk over Will's eyes. "Don't be frightened, Will," he said, his voice very soft. "It's only a blindfold. This is a bit of an exercise in sensory deprivation, one that might prove to be very instructive."

"Okay," Will managed to say, nodding as he felt the silk tied at the back of his head. "I can deal with not being able to see for a little while, I guess."

"There is nothing to be alarmed about," Hannibal told him. Will could swear that the other man was smiling; he could _hear_ that smile in Hannibal's voice.

Hannibal moved away, and Will was tempted to turn his head, even though he couldn't see what was being done. Within moments, Hannibal was back in front of him; Will could feel something cold and round being held against his lips.

"Open your mouth and taste this, Will," Hannibal said softly. "I believe it's something you'll like. Don't worry -- it's hardly inedible. In fact, it's food."

Will nodded, opening his mouth to let Hannibal feed him.

He recognized the taste as soon as it was on his tongue -- a tart, ripe cherry, bursting with flavor. How had Hannibal known that he liked cherries?

"I like to think that this cherry is a bit like you, Will," Hannibal said, his voice almost a caress. "It is both sweet and tart at the same time .... and, until it is crushed between your teeth, it is also pristine. Virginal, in a way. Just as you are."

Will's breath caught in his throat at the words. Hannibal had hit at the heart of something that he himself had been thinking -- and put it into words.

Exactly what he meant by those words, Will had yet to discover.

But he was sure that he would find out very soon.


	2. The Sweetest Cherry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will has always known that he belongs to Hannibal.

Oh, this was exciting. The most exciting thing that had ever happened to him.

It was frightening, too; he was taking his first few steps into the unknown.

Will's heart felt as though it was beating in triple time; his breath was coming faster, heavier, labored. He knew that if he tried to speak, no words would come out.

He desperately wanted Hannibal to take the blindfold off so that he could look into those enigmatic dark eyes and see whatever emotion might be written there. If he _could_ look into those eyes, what would he see? Would he see affection? Desire? Interest?

He didn't know, and at the moment, he didn't care. He just wanted more contact than merely that hand holding another ripe cherry to his lips.

Obediently, he took the second cherry into his mouth, biting into it.

Immediately, the taste flooded his senses; if he hadn't been blindfolded already, he would have closed his eyes, almost moaning at the sweet tanginess.

"You are like the sweetest of cherries, Will," Hannibal whispered into his ear. "So ripe, and .... so pure and untouched. I would like to be the one to, as they say, pop such a cherry. That is, if you would agree to my being the first to take you and teach you."

With surprising suddenness, the blindfold was removed from his eyes, and Will found himself staring up at Hannibal, his blue eyes wide with shock.

Of all the words he might have expected to hear from this man, those words hadn't been anything like what he might have thought Hannibal would say.

He had expected some kind of allegory about feeding his soul as well as his body, something that proved to him once and for all that the vague hope he had in the back of his mind that Hannibal might be interested in him as something than a friend -- and a patient -- wasn't in vain.

He'd _wanted_ to hear something like that, but had never dreamed that he would. And Hannibal was putting it so bluntly. He hadn't expected that, either.

Still, there was nothing he could do but give his answer.

"Yes," he managed to whisper, his gaze not leaving Hannibal's. "I want that. I've wanted that for a while now. I just didn't know how to tell you."

Hannibal grasped Will's chin, staring into the younger man's eyes as though he was trying to see into his soul. "You are mine, Will," he whispered, his voice soft and harsh at the same time. "You have been mine since we first met. I've always known that -- and now, so will you."

Will nodded slowly, his breath constricting. He knew that he belonged to Hannibal; he had just been afraid to put that knowledge into words.

Now, for better or worse, it was done, and their intricate dance had begun.

Any resemblance that he bore to an untouched cherry wouldn't be there for much longer.


	3. Bite Marks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal intends to mark Will as his own, both metaphorically and literally.

He wanted nothing more than to take a bite out of Will.

Oh, not in the usual way that he consumed people as sustenance, Hannibal told himself. He wanted that bite to be proverbial, metaphorical.

But yes, in a way, he _did_ want to consume this young man. He wanted to take Will over, to make him subservient to his will. He wanted Will Graham to belong to him, not only in the physical sense, but in the emotional, as well.

He wanted Will more than he had ever wanted anything. And it looked as though Will felt the same way about him, from what he could tell.

He _would_ have Will. And he would take his pleasure with him.

Hannibal didn't know what would happen in the future; he wasn't going to look that far ahead. For now, there was only tonight, and fulfilling his long-held desire.

He had wanted Will since they had first met; he could still remember the thrill of desire that had run through his body when they had first shaken hands, and his dark gaze had met Will's blue one. For a moment, he had felt as though he was drowning in those eyes.

He'd discovered that those eyes held secrets, so much darkness. A little at a time, he had pulled some of those secrets out of Will, but there were so many still to discover.

He would draw those secrets out, discover them all.

And, if need be, he would use those secrets to keep Will by his side.

He wasn't going to give this young man up, now that he had him. He was sure that Will was his, putty in his hands. He simply had to handle him carefully at first.

Will was new to the game, and that made him skittish. But Hannibal knew that he could draw the young man in, entrap him in a spider's web, wind sticky threads of desire and need around him and keep him just where he should be. That wouldn't be a problem at all.

Will might seem hesitant, but Hannibal could sense that underneath his fear, he was eager to learn. And he had found the right teacher.

There was so much that he intended to show this young beauty.

He intended to leave bite marks on Will, both metaphorically and literally. He would mark this young man as his, for the world to see.

And he would also leave marks on Will's soul, marks that bound them together. He wouldn't leave any stone unturned in his pursuit of full ownership of Will; whatever he had to do to achieve that goal, he would. Will _would_ be his, whether willingly or not.

But he had the definite feeling that Will would come to him more than willingly. And once he was there by Hannibal's side, he would stay there.

Forever. For Will, there would be no escape.


	4. Far Too Fast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This attempted seduction is moving far too quickly for Will to handle.

This was all happening far too quickly for his comfort.

Events were swirling around him like a hurricane, too fast for him to process everything that was happening. It was all happening at once, and he had no control.

Will wanted to pull away, wanted to run out of this house, away from this man who he both wanted and feared. It felt as though the situation was spinning out of control, lifting him up into a vortex that he couldn't escape from, no matter how he struggled.

If he pulled back now, would Hannibal accept that? Would he still pursue Will, still want him? Or would he turn away and find someone else to pique his interest?

Will didn't want that. He wanted to be the one who Hannibal pursued.

But at the same time, such relentless pursuit frightened him more than he wanted to admit. He'd never been in anyone's sights in this manner before.

He wasn't used to anyone wanting him -- and he certainly wasn't used to anyone going after him in the way that Hannibal had. He'd never been pursued aggressively, if at all, and the fact that Hannibal wasn't being subtle about it was both exhilarating and scary.

Part of him wanted to reach out and take what Hannibal was offering -- and another part of him shrank from it, knowing instinctively that he wasn't ready.

"Hannibal, I .... I'm not ready for this," he murmured, shaking his head. He wanted to back away, but the other man was standing too close behind him.

"Will, you _are_ ready," Hannibal whispered into his ear, his hands moving down Will's arms. "You're simply nervous about what is going to happen between us tonight, and that is quite natural. I expected you to be somewhat hesitant. That will pass."

Will was becoming more and more unsure with each passing moment; it felt as though Hannibal was trying to talk him into this, rather than it happening of his own free will.

But at the same time, Hannibal was right. He _did_ want this.

Maybe he _was_ just scared -- which was a natural reaction, just as Hannibal had said. Maybe he just needed to push that fear away, to ignore it.

Yet there was a voice in the back of his mind telling him that this was moving like a hurricane, and that was far too quickly for comfort. If Hannibal would give him a little time, let him get used to the idea, then he'd be a lot calmer, and be sure about what he was doing.

At the moment, he wasn't sure at all. Yet he was moving towards the stairs with Hannibal, letting the other man lead him up those stairs into the upper regions of the house.

Into a place where he wasn't at all sure that he wanted to be.


	5. No Turning Back Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will can't shake the image of himself as a fly, and Hannibal as the spider who wants to consume him.

He had come this far. It was too late to turn back now.

There was no looking back. No escape. He'd made his choice.

As he mounted the top of the stairs, Will cast an agonizing glance back over his shoulder towards the front door. Too late. He couldn't bolt out of that portal to safety.

Shouldn't he feel safe here with Hannibal, though? Why didn't he? His footsteps slowed, dragging slightly as he followed Hannibal silently down the hall towards his bedroom. There was no reason for him not to feel safe, yet somehow, he didn't.

He felt like a hapless fly walking directly into a spider's web, waiting to be wrapped tightly in sticky threads before he was slowly and thoroughly consumed.

Will shuddered at that mental image. He didn't want to dwell on it.

Yet that was how Hannibal made him feel -- small and helpless, as though he was being swept along by a tide that he had absolutely no control over.

He could always say no. He could shake his head, pull back, tell Hannibal that he didn't want this, and he could leave. He could go back downstairs, put on his jacket, and walk out of that door without a backward glance. He could turn his back on all of this.

But that would be denying the part of himself that _did_ want this, the part that was far too curious about what Hannibal had in store for him.

Will felt as though he had a yellow streak a mile wide painted down his back, like some kind of jaundiced skunk. He'd never felt so afraid in his life.

That didn't make sense to him. Hannibal hadn't done anything that should inspire fear in him, yet he was becoming more and more terrified with each step he took towards that room at the end of the hallway, as though somehow his doom waited for him there.

He had the sudden conviction that if he took a step behind that door, and let it close behind him, that he would never be the same again after this night.

Well, wasn't that what he _wanted_ , after all?

He wanted a night with Hannibal to change him, to turn his life around. He wanted to stop being the lonely man he had always been, and find something more.

The unknown was always frightening, Will told himself firmly. And as of yet, sex was something unknown and a little frightening for him. He'd never let anyone be intimate with him; this would be the first time, in so many ways. Hannibal had to know that. He'd be gentle.

There was nothing to fear. There was no reason to feel that he was painted all over with yellow, that his fear was palpable and shone through in every step he took.

He wasn't going to be afraid. He wouldn't let it show.

Will breathed deeply as he took that last step into Hannibal's bedroom.


	6. Twisted Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will isn't sure that this is what he wants, but he's gone too far to escape easily.

What was he doing here?

Will glanced towards the door as Hannibal moved past him to close it; he didn't know why the door should have to be closed, and it made him feel .... trapped.

He didn't want that door closed. He wanted to be able to leave when he felt like it, if this all got to be too much for him. He still wasn't sure that this was where he wanted to be; a part of him wanted to run, to back out of here, to mumble his apologies and flee.

But he was here, his feet rooted to the floor, as though he was frozen in place. He couldn't move, couldn't bring words to his lips, couldn't make himself move in one direction or the other.

What was _wrong_ with him? Wasn't this something he'd thought about, even dreamed about? Didn't he _want_ to be with Hannibal? If he didn't want this, then he could have already said no, backed out of the front door, and left this behind him.

No, he wouldn't have been able to do that even when he'd had the chance. The part of him that wanted this was too strong for him to deny.

But that didn't mean he wasn't scared to death.

"Don't be afraid, Will," Hannibal told him, his voice soft. "I don't intend to cause you pain. We will take this slowly. There is no reason to fear."

Will nodded, unsure as to whether this man was telling him the truth. He wanted to trust Hannibal, but there was something in the back of his mind that screamed at him to be cautious, to protect himself, to not let Hannibal take things too far.

Why should he think like that? Hannibal had said that he would take things slowly. There was nothing for him to be afraid of. Nothing at all.

Nothing other than the sixth sense that was setting off warning sirens in the back of his mind. Nothing but the prickling of the hairs on the back of his neck, the feeling that if he stayed here and went through with this, he would end up regretting it for the rest of his life.

Will opened his mouth to protest, to tell Hannibal that he'd changed his mind -- and found that the words were stuck in throat, unable to be uttered.

He couldn't make them come out. He couldn't turn away.

No matter how scared he was of this, he still wanted it. Turning away wasn't a possibility. For better or for worse, he was here, and here he would stay.

He was scared; he wasn't going to lie to himself about that. But wouldn't anyone who was about to give themselves away for the first time be frightened? That was natural, normal. If he _wasn't_ a little scared, then something would be very wrong with him.

Will took one deep breath, then another. His gaze met Hannibal's, searching the other man's eyes for some kind of reassurance that he was doing the right thing. That reassurance wasn't there; the only thing he could see in those eyes was .... _desire_.

A wave of panic washed over him, and he took a step back. Was Hannibal losing control? Was he right to be afraid, to feel like a mouse trapped by a hungry cat?

Hannibal held out a hand to him, his voice soft when he spoke.

"Come here, Will," he murmured, a small smile on his lips. "Don't be nervous. This is only the beginning, my lovely one. I'd like for it to be a good one."

Swallowing hard, Will put his hand into Hannibal's felt himself drawn nearer to the other man, then turned around to face the mirror. He stared at the two of them, surprised by how _right_ they looked. It was as though they had been made to be a couple.

Hannibal was slightly taller than him; he stood behind Will, moving one hand down his chest, then back up to grasp his chin and turn his face to the side.

Their eyes met, this time not in the mirror, but in actuality. Will found that he couldn't look away; all that he could focus on was the fact that Hannibal's mouth was so close -- close enough for them to kiss, close enough to capture his lips and never let them go.

His eyes slipped closed as that mouth descended towards his own; then Hannibal was kissing him, gently at first, then with more pressure.

The kiss quickly went from a question to a demand.

Will wanted to cry out in protest, to tell Hannibal that he wasn't ready for this, but he couldn't draw enough breath to gasp, much less speak. 

All he could do was cling to the other man, turn towards him and wrap his arms around Hannibal's neck, as those strong arms enfolded him and the kiss became almost cruel in its demands, forcing his mouth open and taking his breath away.

The demand grew even stronger, making him feel dizzy with both desire and fear. He wanted to pull away, but he couldn't. He was caught as surely as a fly in a spider's web.

There was no way out, no turning back, no escape from this kiss that had become twisted and almost brutal in its intensity. But Will was no longer sure that he wanted to escape; desire was winning out over the fear, excitement building within him.

A small part of him was still resisting, but he could feel that hesitation melting away, even as he let his body melt into Hannibal's embrace.

He was caught, snared, beyond redemption.

There was no way out for him, not at this point. He was sinking into Hannibal's embrace, letting this kiss carry him away to worlds as yet unknown to him.

Will was fast approaching the point of no return; he didn't want a way out. He was still afraid of what he was walking into, but his choice was made. He was going to see this through, and he was going to push his fears back and try to banish them.

This was what he wanted, despite his fears. The curiosity and the desire were slowly overcoming the fears, even though the warning sirens were still as loud as ever.

Will tried to push those warnings away, not wanting to listen to them. If he wasn't going to put himself in Hannibal's hands and hold out his trust, then there was no reason for him to be here. He had to overcome those fears, had to submit to whatever was ahead.

Even though this bruising, twisted kiss wasn't all that he'd expected, in a way, it was what he craved, what he'd wanted since he had first met Hannibal.

He was in far too deep to back out now.


	7. Hard To Hold Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal knows that he has to move slowly and ease Will into this nascent relationship if he wants to keep him there for good.

He had to move slowly, or he was going to frighten Will.

The last thing he wanted was to chase this beautiful young man away, to make him turn and run, when he had only just achieved one of his goals.

He had wanted to get Will into his bedroom for quite a while now, and tonight, he was here. He could spoil it all if he moved too quickly; he couldn't simply fall on Will like an animal now that he had his object of desire just where he wanted him.

Hannibal knew that moving slowly was a requirement; this was all new to Will, and one wrong move could make him flee, never to return.

Still, it was _so hard_ to hold himself back, to be patient.

He had wanted Will Graham from the first moment he'd seen the young man, and that desire had only grown stronger as they come to know each other.

Will wanted him, too -- even though he might not have the courage to admit it to himself yet, Hannibal was sure that he knew what secrets were hidden in the recesses of Will's heart and mind. He was just waiting for the chance to let his desires break free.

Will was like a tightly furled bud, a rose that had to be coaxed slowly into the full bloom of sensual beauty. With Hannibal's help, he would blossom and unfurl.

Falling on him like an animal in heat wouldn't make Hannibal's task of calming him and easing him into this relationship any easier. He had to control his desires.

Oh, at some later date, he would be able to do all that he wanted with Will -- but he would have to exercise patience, to make himself hold back and wait until Will was ready to explore the more sensual side of his nature fully. Hannibal was sure that time would come.

Will hid a sensuality under that tightly controlled exterior that Hannibal wanted to revel in. He wanted to bring that sensual side out, to put it front and center.

But only for himself, he added silently. Only for _him_ to view.

Will was his, and would remain so. From this night forward, Will Graham would never contemplate so much as looking at any other person but him.

He knew just how to entice Will; the cat was already reaching out his paw to place it on the mouse's head, knowing full well that he could maim and even destroy with one swipe of his claws. But the cat was being careful; he didn't want to damage his favorite toy.

Perhaps he would make a figurative -- and literal -- meal of his mouse at some point. But that time would be far into the future. There was much to enjoy before then.

The end would not come before the animal had sated itself to the fullest.


	8. Water Flowing Downhill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part of Will wants to run away from this slow seduction -- and part of him wants to surrender.

Will wanted to cross his arms over his chest and hide.

But he couldn't do that, not now. He had made the decision to let Hannibal lead him into the bedroom; there was no way that he could back away now.

Backing away would mean the end of everything that could happen with Hannibal.

Even if he changed his mind, he had to go through with this, didn't he? He couldn't tell Hannibal that he wanted this, and then panic and run away. This might be the only chance he would have to leap this abyss, and he shouldn't turn away from it.

Part of him wanted to turn and run -- and another part wanted to stay, to let his inhibitions go, to abandon himself to whatever might happen.

The moments were rushing past him like water flowing downhill.

In seconds, Hannibal would want him to remove his clothes. He would be naked, exposed in a way that he had never been before to anyone.

He wasn't ready for this. He knew he wasn't. But he couldn't move; he was rooted to the spot, unable to make a move or speak a word. It was as though his feet were mired in place, his vocal cords frozen. There ws nothing he could do but stand here, and wait.

Wait .... for what? He didn't know what Hannibal planned to do with him, but he could guess. He knew what this man wanted from him.

Was he ready to throw caution to the winds? Not long ago, when they'd stood in the living room, he had thought so. But now, it felt like everything had changed.

"You are unsure," Hannibal said, breaking the silence, his breath hot against the back of Will's neck. "Don't be, Will. You want this, even though your stubborn mind is throwing out obstacles. This is a mountain that you have long needed to climb."

That voice slid over his senses like a sparkling waterfall, the words falling into his ears, pooling in front of him, creating a mirage for him to dive into.

Was Hannibal right? _Was_ he ready, in spite of his doubts?

Those hands were on his body, turning him around to face Hannibal, those dark, fathomless eyes gazing into his own. He could drown in those eyes.

Will still wasn't sure that he was ready for this, but he had no choice now but to surrender. He was here, he had made the choice to follow Hannibal upstairs. He wasn't going to turn and run away like a scared child; he was going to follow through.

He would look his fears in the eye, and conquer them.

Wherever this might lead, he was willing to take the first steps on that path now, tonight. He was going to let himself be swept along with the tide, let it take him where it would.

Closing his eyes, he tilted his head back as Hannibal's mouth covered his.


	9. Magnet To Steel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal's touch is setting Will's body ablaze.

He was like a magnet drawn to Hannibal's steel.

Those hands were moving over his body now, starting to loosen his clothes, and he wasn't stopping them. He wasn't helping, but he wasn't hindering, either.

All he wanted was to feel those hands on every inch of his flesh, touching him everywhere, drawing moans from his throat that he couldn't hold back.

Will tilted his head back, letting Hannibal's lips claim his again. He wanted to sink into that kiss, to become part of it; he wanted to throw his last inhibitions to the wind, to push away all of his doubts, to forget about everything but being here, in Hannibal's arms.

His body was tingling where Hannibal touched him; soon, he would be naked, his bare skin under those hands, his body aching for that touch.

He already ached. He wanted, no, _needed_ that touch desperately.

What was he so afraid of? Hannibal's hands on his skin already felt good; he knew that once his body was completely bare, that touch would feel even better.

Those hands were rushing over his skin now, pushing his shirt off his shoulders. Will let it fall to the floor, his breath quickening. Only a few moments more, and Hannibal would start working at his belt buckle, then slide his jeans down his legs ....

That thought made a tidal wave of desire rush through him, set his skin to prickling even more than it was already. He wanted this to move much faster.

He wanted to be bare in front of Hannibal, to let this man view him without clothing, without artifice. Then he would know by the look in Hannibal's eyes if he was truly wanted.

Will held his breath as those hands rested on his hips, puling him nearer. He long lashes fluttered as his eyes closed, his lips parting on a moan of pure desire. He _had_ thrown caution to the winds; his inhibitions were rapidly fading.

His first time .... and it would be with _Hannibal_. With the man he had wanted almost from the first glance, from their first hello.

He was finally going to leap the abyss that had always terrified him.

His skin tingled, almost as though he was a magnet being inexorably pulled towards the compelling steel that was Hannibal.

Those lips were on his again, this time more demanding. But even that deepening kiss didn't stop Will from focusing on the hands that unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned his jeans, and pulled the zipper down slowly. He held his breath, his heart thumping in his chest.

Hannibal's hands paused for a just a moment, going to his hips again as though he was going to pull Will tightly against his fully clad body.

Then his jeans -- along with his boxers -- were being pushed down his legs, until he had to step out of them or risk becoming tangled in them and falling over.

His body was bared to Hannibal's gaze at last.


	10. Fall Into You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal has to force himself to take his time with Will.

He couldn't simply fall onto Will like some sort of wild animal.

Though Hannibal had to admit that was what his senses _told_ him to do. He wanted to drag Will to his bed, fall onto him, into him, have his way with him.

But that would hardly bring Will back for a second round, and then more after that. No, he would have to be very slow and careful this first time, to make sure that Will was so enthralled with what Hannibal could give him that he would be all too willing to come back for more.

Still, it was going to be hard to hold himself back. All of this beauty, bared to his gaze, his for the taking. Will was giving himself up at long last.

Hannibal could sense that Will still wanted to bolt, to run away.

He wouldn't allow that to happen. He had to ease Will into this, to calm his fears, to make him feel less .... well, _exposed_ , though he was standing here stark naked.

"You are beautiful, Will," he whispered, sliding his arms around the young man from behind and nuzzling his cheek. "Stay calm," he whispered into the delicate shell of Will's ear. "There is nothing for you to be frightened about. This will move at your pace."

Not entirely the truth, of course; he intended to guide this first encounter in the way that _he_ wanted it to heppen. But Will didn't need to know that.

He wanted to circle Will, to drink in every inch of that beautiful body with his gaze, to prowl as though he was an animal circling its prey.

But that would only make Will shrink away, and make him want to cover his nudity. Hannibal didn't want that, not at all; he wanted Will to be _proud_ of his body, to show himself off and to revel in the beauty that he possessed. In time, that would happen, he was sure.

But for now, Will had to be led slowly and gently. He had to be taught to cast off his mantle of shyness and hesitation, and to appreciate his own body.

Still, it was hard to subdue that slumbering animal within himself.

He forced himself to move slowly, to run a hand down Will's arm, then down his bare side, to rest on his hip, though he wanted to touch more of that creamy bare flesh.

They had all night, Hannibal reminded himself. This was oly the first small step; he wasn't even out of his own clothes yet. First, he would calm Will, then elevate his desire. Then, and only then, would he begin to avail himself of all the pleasures that Will's body had to offer.

This was Friday night, he told himself with an inward smile. They had the entire weekend for this. By the time Monday morning was here, Will would be a changed man.

And he would be irrevocably bound to Hannibal, body and soul.


	11. Ring of Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will wants to be consumed by the fire that Hannibal is creating within him.

He was sinking into a ring of fire that he couldn't climb out of.

But he didn't really _want_ to get away from these exquisite sensations.

Will let Hannibal move those hands over his body, closing his eyes and suppressing the moan that came to his lips. He wasn't sure if he should make a sound.

He didn't know what Hannibal expected of him, if anything. Hannibal knew that he had never had a lover; he knew that this would be the first time Will had ever given himself to anyone. So how could he expect Will to know what he was supposed to do?

As though the other man had read his thoughts, Hannibal whispered into his ear, his voice soft and seductive. "Do whatever you please, Will. There is no right or wrong in this."

No right or wrong? How could that be?

But he wasn't going to question Hannibal's words. If this man told him to do what he felt like doing, then he would follow his instincts. He wouldn't hold back.

When Hannibal's hands moved down his body again, those warm palms sliding over the plane of his narrow hips, Will moaned softly, leaning back into Hannibal's embrace. And when those long, cool fingers closed over his cock and began stroking him, his moan became louder.

He'd never expected being touched to feel like this. Hannibal's fingers were cool, but they aroused a fire in him that grew hotter with each passing moment.

He felt as though they were inside a ring of fire, the conflagration growing higher every second. There was no way out for him now, no escape.

Strangely, he didn't _want_ to escape any longer. He wanted to be here, in Hannibal's arms, facing whatever was going to happen tonight. Suddenly, it seemed more enticing than frightening; he was ready to take the next step, to see what would come of it.

Even though a part of him was still afraid of this, Will ruthlessly pushed that fear aside, refusing to listen to it. He wasn't going to run away.

It was past time to throw off the mantle of his fears and step forward.

Hannibal's other hand moved up to Will's chest, gently pinching and tweaking first one nipple, then the other, sending a flood of sensation through his body.

He had never known that anyone's hands could feel like this, that a mere touch could send flames through his body, licking at his skin, threatening to consume him. He wanted to be in bed with Hannibal _now_ , wanted the other man's body bare beside his own.

He wanted everything that Hannibal had to give. He wanted it all, and he wanted it at this moment. He wanted that ring of fire to blaze ever higher and burn him to ashes.

The burn might be temporarily painful, but he would rise from those ashes like a phoenix.

Will moaned again, Hannibal's name on his lips.


	12. All He Can Give

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal is determined to make Will completely his, one excruciatingly slow step at a time.

Will's soft skin was like the smoothest velvet under his fingertips.

He could see, in his mind's eye, the bruises and bite marks he would leave on this delectable flesh, the marks that would prove Will was _his_.

His, and his alone. No one else would ever touch this young man; tonight, he would show Will that only he was capable of giving him exactly what he needed. He would bring Will to the edge of desire, show him what true pleasure could be, acquaint him with the possibilities.

He would take Will to a place he had never imagined, a place of sensual fulfillment that he'd never achieved before. He would show will the delights of his own body.

After tonight, Will Graham would be completely his.

He could feel the quivering of Will's body, the ripple along the soft, smooth skin that his hands were gliding over. Good. There was no doubt of Will being ready for this.

He could tell by the flush in Will's cheek, the pink blush that went all the way down to his chest, that he was ready. He could tell by the quick breaths, the hardened nipples, the tautness of Will's body -- and by the erection clasped in his hand.

Hannibal had long dreamed of touching Will like this, from the moment he'd first seen this young man. He had wanted Will in his bed from their first glance.

It wouldn't take much work to get Will into his bed; all he would have to do was continue soothing those last fears, until Will was ready to leap the abyss.

That wouldn't be hard to do, he thought with a smile. All he had to do was arouse Will's senses; within a few moments, his young lover would be so caught up in the sensations engendered by his own body that he would no longer want to protest.

Slowly, Hannibal's hand began to move on Will's cock, stroking from the base to the tip, each movement excruciatingly slow and sensual.

He was going to take his time, to bring Will to the peak of pleasure slowly.

His other hand moved over Will's skin, up and down his side, then caressing his arm. Hannibal could feel the hair on Will's arm standing up, as though it was .... aroused.

It was as if Will's body was reaching for him in every possible way, asking without words for what only he could give. Oh, and he would give Will exactly what his body wanted, Hannibal told himself. Before this night was over, Will would know him in the most intimate of ways.

Will would know not only his body, his skin, but more intimate facets of him. There would still be parts of himself that he held back, of course, but that was inevitable.

For all intents and purposes, Will would have all of him tonight. All that he could give.


	13. A Paralyzing Fear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will feels caught between his fears and his desires like a deer in the headlights.

He'd never been so terrified in his life.

Did he really want this, or was he being coerced into it? Will wasn't sure, and at the moment, he didn't have the mental capacity to say either yes or no.

He felt as though he was straddling the proverbial fence, part of him wanting to move forward with this, to find out what it would be like to let Hannibal make love to him, and part of him wanting to turn and run away, to flee from an overwhelming situation.

He was caught between a rock and hard place, unable to move in one direction or the other, trapped like a deer in the headlights.

Those hands on his body were so seductive, sliding over his skin like silk, as though they were making Will into what Hannibal wanted him to be, molding him to the other man's specifications. He couldn't turn away from them; they held him in place, rooted to the spot.

The truth was, he couldn't have moved if he had tried. He felt as if he had been overcome by a paralyzing fear, one that turned him into a statue.

How was he going to get out of this.

Did he really _want_ to get out of it, though? Will wasn't sure; he didn't know what to think, what to feel. This was all completely new to him.

He'd never felt this way before, never experienced the kind of physical sensations that Hannibal was giving him. And his body wanted more of it.

His body felt as though it was burning; at the moment, all he wanted to do was lean into Hannibal's touch, to let it flow through him and throw his inhibitions to the wind, to follow his instincts and simply do what his body was telling him to do.

What his body wanted to do was to immerse himself in Hannibal, to simply enjoy whatever might happen and to hell with the consequences.

But listening to his body could prove disastrous, and Will knew it. His mind told him to pull back, to be cautious, to look before he decided to leap.

Which would win out -- his mind, or his body? The paralyzing fear that told him to turn and run, to grab his clothes and leave this house, or the need that he had to step into the fire and risk getting burned to a crisp in the heat of what he knew would come next?

He didn't know which way to turn, which would be the best thing for him to do. He was paralyzed, unable to make a decision, the moment frozen in time.

All he could do was stand there, feeling Hannibal's hands on his body, rushing over his skin, coaxing him, seducing him, beckoning seductively to him.

The terror rose, crested .... then, miraculously, began to recede.

He knew exactly what he wanted to do. It might not be best for him, and he might regret it in the future. But for now, for tonight, he would have no regrets.

He was going to step into Hannibal's embrace, to throw aside his fears and not let himself be ruled by them. He was going to be adventurous, to set out on a path he had never traveled before and let it take him where it would, without looking back.

He wasn't going to retrace his steps. He wasn't going to run away. He was going to walk into the future, and take whatever might come to him.

With that decision firmly in his mind, he opened his eyes, staring back into the dark depths of Hannibal's gaze. Will wasn't entirely sure just what he read there, but he was sure that the other man's desire matched his own.

He leaned back into Hannibal's embrace, a soft moan leaving his lips, giving himself up to whatever would be done to him. He was putting himself into Hannibal's hands now.

The paralyzing fear disappeared, to be replaced by the strongest desire he had ever felt.


	14. This One Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If this one night is all he can have with Hannibal, Will intends to hold on to it with all of his strength and enjoy it to the fullest -- even though a part of him is still afraid and holding back.

Will gazed up at Hannibal with wide blue eyes, wondering what would come next.

He didn't remember exactly how they had gotten into the bedroom; he only knew that he was lying here on his back, sinking into the comfortable mattress with Hannibal poised over him.

He was trying not to look at the other man's body, but he couldn't help it. He should have realized that Hannibal would be magnificent without his clothes on; the long, lean muscles of his soon-to-be lover's body fascinated him, and he wanted to reach out and run his hands over that pale skin, to feel Hannibal's flesh under his fingertips.

He could do that if he wanted to, he realized with something of a shock. There was nothing stopping him. As Hannibal had said, there was no wrong or right in this.

Slowly, tentatively, he reached up to place his hands on Hannibal's shoulders, then moved his palms down the other man's muscular biceps. He wanted those arms around him, pulling him close, holding him against that lean body. He wanted those arms to hold him for the rest of his life.

Hannibal leaned to the side, reaching for the small table beside the bed, and Will's muscles automatically tensed. He knew just what Hannibal was reaching for -- the lube that had to be in a drawer.

What else could he possibly be doing? There was no other reason for him to reach for something.

The thought of being entered, being taken, made a sudden rush of fear spread over him. He still wasn't entirely sure that he wanted this; his mind hadn't quite caught up to what his body was feeling.

Was he doing the right thing? Would Hannibal still want him after this first time, or would he simply be a one-night stand? Would they go back to being no more than friends and colleagues, or would this night herald a more intimate relationship between them, one that would keep growing over time?

Will wanted to be more to Hannibal than just a friend, just a patient or a business colleague. He wanted to be in this man's heart, a part of his life that couldn't be compartmentalized.

He wanted to be the center of Hannibal's life, but that was ridiculous. Hannibal had more important things in his life to think about than a romantic relationship; he couldn't hope that this night would mean that Hannibal was willing to push everything else aside for him. He had no right to expect that.

He shouldn't expect from anyone else what he couldn't do himself. He had responsibilities, a job that meant something to him. He couldn't simply push everything aside for the man in his life, either.

But for this one night, he was more than willing to do just that.

What would happen after tonight? Will didn't know, and at this point, he wasn't sure that he wanted to know. He only wanted to have this one night to hold in his heart and in his memories.

If he never had anything else from Hannibal again, if this was the one night that they would spend together, as lovers, then he would reach out and take all that he could get.

He would hold this night close to his heart, and he would treasure the memories it would bring forever. And if he was lucky enough to have more than this one night, then he would Take that, too, and be grateful for it every day of his life. This would only be the first night of many, and he would cherish them all.

Will watched as Hannibal popped the cap on the small tube of lubricant, squeezing some of the substance onto his fingers, then looking down at him with a soft smile.

"Spread your legs for me, lovely," he whispered, moving his hand downward to gently push Will's thighs apart. "Soon now, my love, very soon, you'll have what you want. You'll have all of me."

 _All of him._ A shiver of excitement went through Will's slender body at those words; soon, Hannibal would be inside him, taking him, making love to him. He would lose his virginity here, tonight, in this bed, with this man. This was what he wanted, what he'd yearned for. He didn't want to turn back or run away.

But still, it _was_ a little frightening. The fear was mixed with the desire; he couldn't separate one from the other at this point. They were far too closely intertwined for him to do that.

He did as he was told, gasping when Hannibal's hand moved between his thighs, when those long fingers circled his entrance. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes, willing himself to relax.

There was nothing to be afraid of. Hannibal wouldn't hurt him.

When one finger slid inside him, he couldn't hold back his gasp of pleasure; there was a slight burning sensation, but that quickly vanished, leaving behind only a burgeoning _need_ in its wake.

Yes, he needed this. He needed to finally leap that abyss that he had always held himself back from; he had waited for so long to find someone who he wanted to make that leap with. He needed to close his eyes and give himself over, let himself trust that he would fly to the heavens and then fall safely into Hannibal's arms.

Another finger pressed inside him to join the second, and the slight burning sensation increased. But Will merely closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths; it didn't take long for the slight pain to melt into pleasure.

He wanted more of this pleasure, as much as he could get. He wanted Hannibal inside him, wanted to be filled, to be fucked, to be _taken_. No, he told himself, he didn't want to be _fucked_. He wanted to be made love to, wanted to be held and loved and cherished and .... _possessed_.

He wanted to give himself to Hannibal in every way, and he wanted to be enveloped in the knowledge that the two of them belonged together, that this had somehow been ordained from their first meeting.

He didn't just _want_ this. He _needed_ it, with every fiber of his being.

But there was still that little voice that screamed in the back of his mind, that voice telling him that he should be cautious, that this wasn't going to end up as he thought it would.

Will deliberately pushed that voice away from him, closing a door on it and trying his best to ignore it. He wasn't going to let all of his doubts and fears get the better of him. Not this time. He had come this far, and there were only a few more steps to take before he could throw himself off that precipice and fly free.

He would have to rely on Hannibal to catch him, but he was sure that he could do so. He wouldn't be here if he didn't feel that he could put his trust in his lover, would he?

And if all they were given was this one night, then he would accept that fact. He would keep this night in his heart, hold it close to him, and let it be the best memory he'd ever made. He would take it out and look at it when he was alone, relive every moment of it and revel in the freedom that he'd had for such a brief time.

Those fingers were moving inside him, scissoring, opening him and preparing him for what was going to happen next. Will's breath came faster, his heart rate speeding up at the thought.

He wanted this, but there was still a part of him that was holding back.

That part of him wouldn't be silent. It was still screaming at him that this was a mistake, that things were moving too quickly and that he had no control whatsoever over the situation he was in.

He tried his best to push those thoughts away, to focus on what was happening and not to listen to any voices of dissent. He was doing what he wanted to do, throwing caution to the winds, and he wasn't going to let any doubts or fears talk him out of it. For once, he was going to take a risk, no matter what might happen in the future.

When Hannibal's fingers slid out of him, his gaze met the other man's, and he knew that this was his last chance to back out, to pull away. But he wasn't going to. He was going to see this through.

Will closed his eyes, letting his breath out in a soft sigh, waiting for what Hannibal would do next.


	15. Pitting the Cherry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will had never expected lovemaking to be this intense.

Will buried his face against the soft silk of the pillow, the breath driven from his lungs as Hannibal pushed more deeply inside him, lifting his hips off the bed.

This was unlike anything he had ever experienced, something outside of his knowledge.

Will moaned into the pillow with each thrust, his hands clenching the sheets in handfuls. He hadn't expected this to feel so intense, or to be so .... _transported_.

He didn't feel like _himself_. He was being pulled out of himself, being turned into something -- and someone -- who was completely alien to who he'd always been. This was like nothing he'd ever known, nothing he had ever thought he could possibly feel.

Will envisioned himself as a ripe cherry, bursting with flavor, and each thrust of Hannibal's hips took more of the juicy flesh out of that cherry, pitting it, stripping it down to the core.

Soon, there would nothing of himself left.

He was being stripped down to the core, pitted like a cherry ripe for the plucking. With each thrust, Hannibal pushed him closer to the stars, and further away from the world he knew. Under the ministrations of his lover, he was becoming a new person, a being created by Hannibal.

But he had some say in this creation, didn't he? After all, he was an active participant. He wasn't just lying here and letting himself be taken mindlessly.

With each thrust, he pushed his hips back, demanding more of his lover. His body undulated, moving in rhythm with the man above him, his muscles tightening with each movement.

This was unlike any experience he'd ever had, something completely new and different, and he wanted to repeat it over and over, as much as he possibly could, until it was new no longer, until it was something that was as much as part of him as drawing breath.

And at the moment, he never wanted this initial experience to end.

It was almost a shock when he heard Hannibal cry out softly and felt his lover's essence pouring into him; then his own release swept over him only seconds later, initiating a cry from his soul.

He felt as though he had been completely hollowed out, like a cherry that had been pitted. When Hannibal withdrew from his body, he felt such an emptiness that he almost cried out, wanting to be filled against immediately, already craving that physical intimacy between their bodies.

But it would come again, Will told himself as Hannibal turned him over and their gazes met. If the look in those dark eyes meant what he thought it did, it would happen very, very soon.

He knew that he wasn't going to feel empty for long.

When Hannibal's arms wrapped around him, he knew that the pitting of that ripe cherry was going to commence again, and he opened himself to it, heart, mind, body and soul.


	16. Connection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal wonders if the physical and emotional connection he's made with Will could possibly be .... love.

Being inside Will was unlike anything he had ever known.

Hannibal closed his eyes, wrapping one arm around Will's slender waist and thrusting his hips forward into that tight, molten heat, moaning as he did so.

He had known that being with Will would be pleasurable. He had expected that. But he hadn't realized just how much pleasure he would derive from their coupling.

Being inside Will's body felt as though he was finally in the place where he had always belonged; he felt a sense of completion that nothing else in his life had ever given him. He had come home; he had found the one person who could make him feel whole. The one person who made him feel _human_.

The realization came as something of a shock to him; his rhythm faltered for just a moment before his hips thrust forward again, burying himself even deeper in Will's heat.

This was what he had always wanted, and never found; this closeness, this melding with another person that seemed to go far beyond the physical.

He and Will had a connection that went far deeper than merely sharing their bodies.

Was it love? Hannibal didn't know the answer to that; he wasn't sure what love was, or if it was an emotion he could allow himself to feel. He didn't understand love.

But this was more than the mere friendship he had wanted to have with Will. Oh, yes, this went far beyond friendship. It had always been more than that. Now, they were lovers in the physical sense, even if he wasn't sure just where their emotions would lead them.

Will's hands clutched at the sheets as Hannibal thrust into him again; without thinking, Hannibal took those hands in his own, holding them above Will's head.

Will cried out, pushing back against him, struggling a little.

The younger man's movements seemed to set something free within Hannibal; he could feel another wave of desire wash over him, making him feel .... primitive.

He sped up his rhythm, thrusting faster and harder into Will, until he knew that they were both close to the precipice, ready to fling themselves off that edge. Only a few more moments now, and they would find their release together, their bodies in tandem in a way that he'd never known before.

Only Will could make him feel this way, Hannibal thought as he reached that peak, his body shaking and spasming as he felt his orgasm take him over.

Will's release came only seconds after his own; it was a triumph to hear the young man cry out and feel his muscles tighten, to feel Will's pleasure as acutely as his own.

He spilled himself into the young man beneath him, letting his body relax on top of Will's. Hannibal didn't know how long he lay there, lost in the afterglow of pleasure that surrounded them, before he finally rolled to his side and pulled Will into his arms, then rolled back on top of the other man.

He wanted Will again, as soon as possible. But he knew that he had to let their bodies recuperate from that intensity that they'd just experienced.

And, of course, Will needed time to assimilate what had just happened.

He himself needed time to recover from the intensity of their lovemaking. He had been with other men before, of course, but this had been a completely new experience for him.

Was it because he cared about Will more than he had about anyone, male or female, that he'd ever been with in the physical sense? Was he falling in love with this young man? Hannibal wasn't sure just what kind of emotions now swirled within him, or what they meant.

Love wasn't something he'd thought would come to him. He knew that he felt an _affection_ for Will, but was it strong enough to be called love?

That was a question that he couldn't answer, at least not now.

For the moment, it was enough to lie here with Will in his arms and know that he had made a connection. After being alone for so long, he finally felt _connected_ to someone.

He hadn't expected this. He'd thought that what happened between them was going to be purely physical, with no more involvement than their bodies melding with each other.

Lying here with Will held close against his heart, it was easy to contemplate love. But he knew that it was something he'd have to think about long and hard to ascertain whether or not it was true. He'd lived without love for so long that he wasn't even sure how it felt.

But if this _was_ love, then he would ease himself into it, and he wouldn't turn away from it. Perhaps things could work between the two of them.

Hannibal closed his eyes, brushing a kiss across the top of Will's head. He didn't want to think about the future at the moment. He wanted to luxuriate in the present.

A present that was eminently satisfying.

He'd known that their first time making love would be incredible. He'd known that he would enjoy Will to the fullest, and that he would want them to be intimate again.

What he hadn't expected was this overpowering urge to hold WIll and protect him from any harm, to keep this young man close to his heart. He hadn't expected to want to say three little words to him, words that would come out in a whisper yet would be as heartfelt as though he'd shouted them to the universe.

 _Was_ he in love? Was that possible? This wasn't the time to ruminate on the subject, Hannibal told himself. This was the time to enjoy what he'd found, to hold it close to his heart and treasure it.

If this connection he'd made was love, then he wanted to enjoy every moment.


	17. Bittersweet Sensation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will's first time has left him with many more questions than answers.

So he had finally given himself to someone.

It definitely hadn't been what he'd expected. It had felt good, yes, but there had been a bittersweet quality to his surrender, a feeling of loss along with the pleasure.

Will lay still next to Hannibal, listening to the other man's breathing. He could tell that Hannibal was asleep; he was sure that his lover wasn't faking it.

It was hard for him to believe that he'd actually let Hannibal make love to him -- if making love was what it could be called. It hadn't seemed like something that should bear the sacred name of "love." It had felt more like lust -- almost, but not quite, furtive and secretive.

Why did he feel as though they had done something that they had to keep hidden from the world, something that he should feel a little embarrassed about?

This hadn't been the way he'd thought his first time would feel.

Of course, he also hadn't figured on his first time being with Hannibal. He hadn't thought that the two of them would have such a physical connection, even though a part of him had wanted Hannibal ever since their first meeting, and wondered what it would be like to be intimate with him.

Well, he certainly knew the answer to that now, didn't he? And he wasn't sure whether or not he liked all that he had discovered. He wasn't sure what to think.

The sex had been .... if not wonderful, at least good. There had been some pain, but he had expected that. He'd known that losing his virginity would come with a price.

What had been so bittersweet was the seeming detachment with which Hannibal had made love to him. Yes, there had been physical heat between their bodies; there had definitely been desire. But in spite of the blazing heat of desire that he'd felt, he'd felt that Hannibal was holding back emotionally.

He wanted Hannibal to open up to him, to share what he was feeling.

Was that even possible? Will asked himself, grimacing at the thought. Hannibal wasn't the kind of person who shared his emotions easily; he already knew that.

Did Hannibal love him, and not just desire him? And if he did, how was he going to get his lover to _show_ those emotions and not keep them hidden away deep within himself? Will gnawed at his lip, turning over his predicament in his mind until his eyelids grew heavy and closed.

Did _he_ love Hannibal? And was this bittersweet feeling of having given something away of himself that he could never get back normal? 

Did everyone feel this way after their first time? Or was this bittersweet sensation of loss unique to him? Was he only feeling this way because he might have made a terrible mistake?

He fell asleep with those questions weighing on his mind.


	18. His Greatest Wish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will wonders if his his greatest wish is actually going to be fulfilled.

In his heart, this was what he had wished for.

Will opened his eyes, squinting a little against the bright sunlight that was filtering through the curtains at the window of Hannibal's bedroom.

How many times had he dreamed of being here, and woken up in the morning wishing that he wasn't in his own bed, but here in Hannibal's arms?

Now, his dreams were finally coming true, and he didn't know what to think of them. He wasn't entirely sure that this was _real_ ; it still felt like a dream, like something he'd conjured up on the strength of a wish and nothing more. Maybe he really _was_ at home in his own bed.

No, that wasn't the case; this wasn't a dream. It had actually happened; he and Hannibal were lovers, and he was here, where he had dreamed of being for so long.

But it still seemed unreal. Everything felt as though it was turned upside down and inside out; he didn't have any real sense of security. He felt .... unsure, flooded with uncertainty.

He didn't know how Hannibal felt about him.

Had what happened between them just been a one-time thing, or was it the beginning of a new relationship between the two of them? Was this long-term, or just momentary?

The only way that he would ever know the answer to those questions was to ask Hannibal outright; he didn't think that he could find the answers he wanted simply by waiting and watching Hannibal's actions. And he didn't want to wait. He wanted to _know_.

Will knew that he wouldn't be able to continue this relationship if Hannibal didn't have some tender feelings for him, and if he didn't want it to be anything but a diversion.

He cared about Hannibal. Maybe .... just maybe, he was even falling in love with this man. And if he was, he needed that emotions to be returned, or at least to know that it _could_ be.

He couldn't keep going forward without knowing that the two of them had some kind of a future together. He didn't need even more uncertainty in his life; he dealt with that every day in his job, and he had to have a personal life that at least felt somewhat stable and secure.

That thought almost made him smile. Could he count on stability and security with someone like Hannibal? He doubted it, but he was more than willing to try.

If he had one wish, he would wish that this was _real_.

He wanted the emotions to be shared, for Hannibal to feel what he himself felt. That was his greatest wish, and one that he despaired of coming true.

The only way he would _know_ how Hannibal felt was to ask him -- so he had to get himself past the fear of what the other man would say and simply come out with it.

Will shifted slightly under the covers, smiling as Hannibal's arm tightened reflexively around his waist. Why was he so worried? He was here, in Hannibal's bed, waking up with him. If Hannibal didn't care about him, then he wouldn't have been here in the first place.

If he wanted this to last, he would have to make sure that it did. Hannibal had wanted him enough to be with him once, so why wouldn't he want this to continue?

He would do whatever he had to do to make this last, Will told himself firmly. He would seduce Hannibal if he had to. He would become whatever Hannibal needed him to be.

His greatest wish was for this to go on, and he would make that wish come true.

All right, so maybe it wouldn't be easy. Maybe Hannibal would make him struggle for a relationship. But even that would be worth it in the end.

Being with Hannibal made him happy, even though their start had been, well, a little rocky. He hadn't been sure at first that he'd wanted what Hannibal had offered to him.

But now, he knew that he did. He wanted this more than anything in the world. He wanted to fall asleep and wake up in Hannibal's arms. He wanted to give himself to this man not just physically, but in _every_ way. He wanted to touch Hannibal's heart, to have a place there.

Maybe he already did. Hannibal wasn't the kind of man to take someone to bed unless he'd thought long and hard about what he wanted.

That was another question he would have to ask. And if the answer was in the affirmative, then his greatest wish would have been granted, the one wish that he desperately needed to be fulfilled.

Will smiled, closing his eyes. For the moment, it felt like all of his wishes were coming true.


	19. The Word Definitely Applies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal is somewhat surprised to realize that he's truly happy -- perhaps for the first time in his life.

He was happy, perhaps for the first time in his life.

Hannibal smiled at his reflection in the mirror as he dressed, feeling lighter and more satisfied than he had in a very long time. He felt .... _optimistic_. Yes, that was the word.

No, it wasn't, he told himself a moment later. That word wasn't nearly strong enough to describe how he was feeling. The only proper word was _happy_.

And it was all due to Will, and the night that they had just spent together. He glanced towards the hallway, knowing that Will was in the shower and almost wishing that he had joined his young lover there. But no, things like that would come later in their burgeoning relationship.

For now, he was willing to simply take what they had, savor it, and let the future come as it would. He didn't want to make plans, not with this.

It was better to let what was happening between himself and Will develop naturally. There was no need to hurry; they had all the time in the world to discover each other.

That discovery was off to a good start.

What had already happened between the two of them felt natural, as though it had been coming ever since the day they had met and looked into each other's eyes.

He had wanted Will from that very first meeting, of course. But he hadn't thought that Will's desire had matched his own, and he had told himself that he would hold back.

For a while, he had admonished himself that Will wasn't for him, and that the attraction he felt would die a quick death. But it hadn't; it had only grown stronger as the two of them had gotten to know each other, and finally, he hadn't been able to hold back his feelings any longer.

He was glad that he hadn't held back, of course. If he had, then he wouldn't be feeling this incredible happiness now -- and Will wouldn't be his.

And Will _was_ his. He didn't doubt that fact for even a moment. Will had proven that, and he could tell that his young lover was just as happy as he himself was.

He didn't need to be told that Will was happy; he could see it in the smile that the young man had given him when they had awakened that morning. There had been happiness in the depths of those blue eyes, happiness in Will's smile and in his voice when he'd wished Hannibal a good morning.

His own happiness was leaping within him, and he was having a hard time keeping the smile from his features. He hadn't felt this happy in .... well, he had _never_ felt this happy.

Was it love that was making him feel this way? Did he dare to use that simple, four-letter word to describe this kind of happiness? Was it the appropriate word?

Something within him told him that the word definitely _did_ apply.

Yes, he was in love -- and what was more, he was happy about being in love. He would never have thought that of himself just a few short months ago.

But Will had changed everything about his life, about his way of thinking. He had even nearly stopped his .... well, his _excursions_ , as he called them.

He had felt no need for them in the past few weeks, and he was actually glad of the fact. If he kept up those killings, he would eventually be caught -- after all, his Will was no fool. And then he would not only be put behind bars and possibly be on death row, but he would also lose Will.

He couldn't let that happen. He had to either completely stop doing something that was an integral part of him, or find a way to do it with much more care and discretion.

Hannibal knew that he wouldn't be able to keep his secret predilections hidden from Will forever. If he loved Will, then he would eventually have to be completely honest with him.

It was a thought that gave him pause, that made his happiness waver.

Resolutely, he pushed the thought away. He would cross that bridge when he came to it. It was still early days in their relationship to worry about that now.

His relationship with Will was just beginning; he had plenty of time to worry about what he needed to conceal from his young lover in the future. For the moment, he was sure that Will had no clue about his secret life -- and he was going to keep it that way. What Will didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

He heard the shower water being turned off as he left his bedroom to make his way downstairs to the kitchen to make breakfast for the two of them, and he smiled -- a genuinely _happy_ smile.

This was going to work out. He would make sure that it did.


	20. Optimistic Outlook

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will's relationship with Hannibal has changed the way he looks at life, and he wants that optimism to stay with him.

Was it weird for him to be so happy?

Yes, Will thought as he stepped out of the shower and reached for the thick, fluffy towel that he'd taken out of the linen closet to dry himself off with. It was definitely weird.

He'd never thought of himself as being a happy person. He didn't think that he'd been _truly_ happy since he was a child, before he'd discovered his empathy.

He was content with his life, of course. He'd made a place for himself, and he felt that he was fitting into that little niche fairly well. He might not have a lot of friends, but he had his dogs, his home, and a job that he was fulfilled in. He did a lot of good for a lot pf people, and that was enough for him.

But he had never considered himself _happy_. There had always been a space in him that had never been filled, even though he'd tried to pretend that it didn't matter.

Now, he was happy. He felt more optimistic about his future than he had in a long time, and it was all due to the man he'd become involved with.

Was Hannibal as happy with this situation as he was?

Hannibal _seemed_ happy, from what he could tell. But was he only looking at this as a temporary thing, or did he intend for this relationship to keep developing?

Will slowly lowered the towel after drying his hair, looking at himself in the bathroom mirror. Hannibal wanted him; that was obvious. But what was it about him that drew the other man to him? He wasn't bad-looking, not at all, but was it more his physical attributes that intrigued Hannibal, or his mind?

Or was it both of those things that made some kind of irresistble combination for the other man? He didn't want to simply ask Hannibal that question; somehow, it seemed rude, intrusive.

Still, he wanted to know. He _had_ to know.

If he found out that Hannibal didn't intend for this relationship to be more than a simple fling, then his optimistic outlook would quickly fade away. He didn't want that.

He wanted to hold on to this newfound happiness, and to let it keep growing. It had taken this situation to make him realize that he was tired of being alone, tired of always feeling that he was on the outside looking in, tired of feeling that relationships were for other people, but never for him.

He wanted to _belong_. He wanted to have someone in his life that he could share things with, someone to love. Someone who would love him back in the same way.

Did Hannibal love him? Now, _that_ was a question he really couldn't ask. It was far too soon in their relationship to expect a definitive answer to that one.

He wanted to be loved. He'd come to realize that fact in the brief time that he'd been involved with Hannibal. It was the missing piece that he'd been searching for, even though he'd refused to let himself admit it. But his relationship with Hannibal had brought that to the forefront of his mind.

Maybe it was what he'd always needed, even though he had never wanted to let himself admit that he actually _needed_ someone in his life.

He'd always thought that he was just fine on his own.

No, he'd never really thought that, Will told himself, drying off slowly and knotting the towel around his slender waist. He'd just fooled himself into believe it.

This new optimistic outlook of his proved to him that love what what had been missing from his life. He had to admit that he _was_ falling in love with Hannibal, whether the other man returned his feelings or not. it was a scary thought, but it wasn't something he could turn away from.

The idea of being in love, of being that vulnerable emotionally, of opening himself up completely to someone else had always utterly terrified him.

Yet here he was, doing just that, even though it was still frightening.

He wanted to hold onto this new optimistic outlook, to believe that he was going to keep falling in love, that whatever this was that he'd started with Hannibal would come to fruition.

Will wasn't used to being optimistic, especially about relationships; he'd long ago told himself that for him, they could only lead to inevitable heartbreak and misery.

But this time would be different, he told himself firmly as he opened the bathroom door and walked down the hallway back to the bedroom to get dressed. Pain _wasn't_ the inevitable end. Maybe it had been in the past, but then, he'd never known anyone quite like Hannibal before.

And no one else had ever made him feel this way. No one else had ever made love to him, brought him to the heights of ecstasy that Hannibal had introduced him to. 

He had never allowed anyone to touch him in the ways that Hannibal had, both emotionally and physically. And he never would. Hannibal would be his first, and his only.

Hannibal was the only person he wanted. Ever.

Maybe it was old-fashioned of him to believe in loyalty, but he did. And he couldn't imagine ever wanting to be with anyone but Hannibal, for the rest of his life.

Of course, being loyal to Hannibal meant that he expected this to be a continuing relationship, one that would keep on growing and developing. And he didn't know yet if that was what Hannibal wanted. Will sighed softly, running a hand through his unruly curls.

Well, he would find out shortly. Because he was going to figure out a way to ask Hannibal what he wanted, even if he had to come out and just put the question to him bluntly.

He was nervous about the answer he might get, but he had to know.

If he wanted to hold on to this optimistic outlook he had at the moment, he had to know that they had a future, and that he had something to keep looking forward to.

Well, he would find out in just a short while. Will took a deep breath and headed towards the stairs, knowing that his lover would have already started making breakfast for the two of them.


	21. Quicksand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will's doubts are like quicksand, pulling him down and threatening to swallow him.

Will leaned against the frame of the kitchen door, watching Hannibal make breakfast.

He had to admire the other man's economy of movement, the grace with which he made everything he was doing look so easy. Will envied that quiet grace.

He himself always felt as though he was all thumbs in the kitchen. He knew how to cook, but he didn't enjoy it in the way that Hannibal did.

Which was why he always ate out of cans that he could nuke in the microwave, or takeout, whenever he was at home, he thought with a wry smile. One thing was for sure -- when he was staying with Hannibal, he ate well. It was one of the big bonuses to being involved with this man.

Hannibal was a prince in every way, he told himself. This man was everything he'd ever wanted, and he hoped that this relationship was going to turn into something very solid.

But at the moment, he wasn't sure of where he stood with Hannibal. Was he just a fling, or was he someone that the other man wanted to keep in his life?

He wanted to stay in Hannibal's life, as much more than just a friend.

Now that their relationship had changed from mere friendship to something much more intimate, he wasn't sure of which way to turn. The ground seemed to be heaving under him.

He'd have to talk to Hannibal about what his intentions were, and the best thing to do was to take the proverbial bull by the horns and get that conversation over with.

Will took a deep breath, stepping into the kitchen just as Hannibal turned from the stove with a pan in his hand. The other man smiled, indicating with a gesture of his head for Will to sit down at the table. "I was just making us some eggs and pancakes for breakfast. Please sit down, Will."

Will did as Hannibal told him, reaching for the pot of coffee that was on the table and pouring himself a cup. "Thanks for making breakfast. You know I"m not that good in the kitchen."

"Ah, that is something that you can learn to do," Hannibal told him, sliding a stack of pancakes onto Will's plate. "It is an art, Will. One that every person should cultivate."

"But with you around, do I really need to?" Will almost held his breath after he'd asked the question; that was a perfect opening for Hannibal to say something about their future. There was a good possibility that in just a few moments, he would know just where they were heading.

Will felt as though the quicksand he'd felt that he was sinking in was rising rapidly; he needed Hannibal's words to be positive, to pull him out of the mire that he was falling into.

Hannibal raised an inquisitive brow, then smiled as he sat down and helped himself to pancakes and scrambled eggs. "I suppose that's true. Though I'd enjoy giving you cooking lessons."

Will could feel his heart leap, as though it was jumping for joy.

"So you intend for this ...." He waved his hand around at the kitchen, indicating everything around them. "You mean for this morning to be something that's repeated a lot?"

Again, he found himself holding his breath as he waited for the answer. This was it. Hannibal's next words would tell him all that he needed to know.

Hannibal gave him a droll look, a smile curving the corners of his lips upwards. "Will, as I seriously doubt that I could stomach your cooking, at least until I teach you some of the more esoteric elements of making your way around the kitchen, it appears that I will be doing our cooking for the foreseeable future."

The quicksand receded, and Will let his breath out in a rush. So Hannibal _did_ intend for their relationship to be something that lasted. He wasn't just a quick fling.

Suddenly, he felt hungry, even ravenous. He reached for the maple syrup, pouring a generous amount of it onto his pancakes before taking a bite.

The world had just been transformed into a bright and beautiful place.

"You'll definitely be doing our cooking," he said after he'd chewed and swallowed. "These are a lot better than I could ever dream of making!"

The quicksand had released its hold on him, and he'd climbed out of it safely. Now that he was standing on solid ground, he intended to stay there for a very, very long time.


End file.
